The spring of my sophomore year of college I was president of my university’s Students for Life chapter. The fall of my junior year of college I cut my ties with the pro-life movement. Five years later I have lost the last shred of faith I had in that movement. This is my story.
A woman who wanted to terminate her pregnancy has had her abortion halted by the courts at the request of an anti-choice group.
An eight-year jail sentence raises troubling questions about British abortion laws.
The legality of abortion in Latin America varies from country to country. The one constant almost everywhere is the inaccessibilty of a safe, legal procedure.
Akin’s comments about “legitimate rape” went against science and reality, but that’s par for the course when it comes to an anti-choice movement that ignores the lives and feelings of women in order to paint them as reproductive objects who deserve no say in how they’re used.
A rare bipartisan effort underway in the Senate—to ratify a United Nations treaty on disability rights—has become the latest target of politicians who would like to undermine a woman’s ability to make personal health care decisions.
The treatment of pregnant women in prison exposes problems with mass imprisonment in the United States.
Having an abortion to prevent a child from being born with Down syndrome or another disability can be a positive moral choice. Okay, now let’s go on (assuming you’re not already plotting my demise).
Dear Representative Trent Franks and other anti-choice politicians: Stop claiming you care about women and babies. You didn’t care about me when I was raped, and you don’t care about the suffering of American people. How dare you suggest otherwise.
When I moved to Canada in 2008, I was a die-hard conservative Republican. I believed based on my politics that government mandated health care was a violation of my freedom.